'Let me take your picture'

Portrait of Booboo taken by Kai Curly Tops before the kid left for school today

If you don't find me in our family pictures some of the time, it isn't because I am elsewhere. It's because I'm taking the pictures. Remember what they say about the TV's remote control? Whoever holds it holds the power. Taking my family members' photos has enabled me to discover their most flattering angle.

I like how Kai presents herself as photographer or portraitist. It's with a polite preface: "Let me take your picture." She knows the settings of my old Canon PowerShot better than me and is unafraid about fiddling with the buttons (she once was Butones, after all). When I need the camera and want the settings restored to its former state, I turn to Kai's techy mother Kimi.

Yes, she takes selfies, too. But they're over at Instagram.

Thanks, Kai. You made my Wednesday. I grade you "Excellent" in use of lighting coming from the computer and office window on a gray gray day. Love, Booboo

Poem from a gentle soul

Of the many anniversary greetings Rolly and I received last month, none touched me more than Bimboy Peñaranda's. His note went: "All I can offer you and Rolly is a poem I completed today (see attachment). You're on the road to recovery and more discoveries. Warmst regards to Rolly. Sige, Bimboy"

I asked permission to quote from it, but I'm running it in its glory-be fullness. He said he'd read it to Rolly and me and our friends someday. This is as good as reading it to all out there. Maraming salamat, Bimboy!

Rolly at dinner with Jo and Bimboy Peñaranda in Dauis, Bohol, in September last year. We had just come from the successful launch of Bimboy's poetry collection Lucid Lightning at the Divine Word College. Photos by Babeth Lolarga




GOOD MORNING

I feel like a window possessed by sparrows,
The perfect stranger who walks the distance
To a waiting trance, who drinks sunlight
From a cup made silver by imagination.

I step out into the garden to greet
The monsoon breeze, like a flag unfurled,
Ready to welcome and embrace an anthem
Emerging from a pond of silence.

I set the dogs loose, clean up their mess
After pee, poop and unabashed play.
The turtle can stroll later on the lawn
To impart lessons on careful attention.

I turn earthbound, loosen the soil:
Allow the roots of plants to breathe
The color of sky, hear the news from bees,
Affirm the presence of lightning in storms.

I’m inclined to meet certain deadlines,
Fulfill basic elements beyond the mysterious:
Payment of bills, weekly groceries, house repairs
To relax the tense walls of our existence.

I’m a detective of unexplained laws of nature.
I investigate why the universe is the body of god,
Why we never yield the flower of hidden bliss
To the passion of each passing revolution.

My wife thinks we are seeds of light
Casting shadows on each other at home,
Performing duties without reservation.
We bloom while listening to our children.


Victor Peñaranda
July 27. 2015
Las Piñas

The skies over Bohol's Chocolate Hills one morning in the last year

A painting to spare

Now framed, installed and proudly displayed in my brother Junic's family room in Calgary, Alberta, is this painting I began and finished in the Year of the Snake. The mouthful of a title is "In the Year of the Snake, a Pinay Abroad Dreams of the Green Grass of Home." It's from a series of acrylic works (I remember doing three variations, the main one I continue to use as the cover art for this blog) that pay tribute to the kerchief-wearing, working women of painter Anita Magsaysay Ho.

Junic said he'd try shooting photos of the work at night so there would be no reflections. That was Aug. 2. I guess he got too busy. But I am thankful for this documentation. Sometimes I wonder about these children of the mind and of the brush of mine that have found other homes.


I recently stumbled upon a poem, author unkown, that Magsaysay Ho supposedly lived by. It's called "The Art of Living." I quote it in full.

The Art of Living

To touch the cup with eager lips and taste, don't drain it
To woo and tempt and court a bliss and not attain it
To fondle and caress a joy, yet hold it lightly
Lest it become necessity and cling too tightly
To see the sunset in the West and not regretting
To hail its advent in the East, the night forgetting
To have enough to spare
To know the joy of giving
To heed response to every good in life is living.

A discovery on Pioneer Street

The lady at the counter of this cafe said they've been around for over a year, but I who lives nearby, how come I never noticed it? Perhaps I've been more concerned with getting home in one piece after going through the occasional Pioneer St. traffic to even note how a new hangout had risen beside a small National Bookstore branch inside the Quad Alpha building.

Before the rains we've been experiencing this weekend came, it felt like summer had changed its mind and decided to return, with its heat affecting people who are already natural hotheads. Ice coffee for me was called for with passable ensaymada (is it brioche in English? someone help me on this one). There were tables with a view of the street, and the decorator chose well to have amber bottles lined up, a touch of green and some pebbles in a tray.

No, I haven't been bitten by the adult coloring book addiction that afflicts my eldest daughter. I bought this at the cafe's mother company, National Bookstore. This is meant as a gift to my husband Rolly who's turning 65 in less than a month and who has found new fulfillment in tending a pocket garden that has remained a work in progress. Pretty much like our marriage, I hasten to add. Photos by Babeth Lolarga

City and country clouds

You can really see the quality of cloudscapes changing as you move from the city to the countryside. Cloud watching is a preoccupation when I travel. I'm always on the lookout for angels, you might say.

I bless this week's Tuesday for giving this again weary blogger a chance to get infused with new vitality with just an overnight's rest at a private beach house in Batangas.

Thank you, GLCK, for the opportunity to enjoy what we now agreed is called a "pocket vacation" because it happened on a Tuesday-Wednesday, not a weekend.

Here's what happens when grey of morning becomes stunning blue of afternoon and the technicolor of sunset.

Photos by Babeth Lolarga

What do you say to a depressed person?

Get-well card painted by Toottee Chanco Pacis of Baguio

Codes names of Toottee and this blogger for one another

What do you say to a depressed person?

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Textiles and textures

In recent days and the past week I found myself in places I normally don't frequent: malls! Official volunteer duties required that I be there to help document preparations leading to tomorrow's La Cenerentola at 8 p.m. at the Meralco Theater. In between listening to live music from the Manila Symphony Orchestra conducted by Darrell Ang and focusing my old camera on the looks and gestures of musicians, I would, as they say, window-shop with no intent of bringing out my wallet.

My camera did the work for me. Among my Pinterest boards ("pinning" to me is more fun than waltzing from shop to shop) is one dedicated to Patterns and Textiles. Here are some embroidered textiles I found at a tela shop at Glorietta 5. They make you wanna reach out and touch.

Rossini’s La Cenerentola stirs anticipation

Rossini’s La Cenerentola stirs anticipation